A Typical Commute

Okay, I’m gonna skip the getting to know you stuff that people usually put in their first posts and just jump right into it. 

I almost got ran over yesterday. 

It’s no secret that the traffic in this city kinda…sucks…but I’ve never felt myself to be in any sort of mortal danger, especially when on foot. But I was walking to my parking garage yesterday, enjoying the warm temperature, admiring the crystal blue sky, and whistling “I’ll Fly Away” with a smile on my face and a prayer in my heart (okay, not really). I crossed the street when the little man told me to and this car DOES NOT EVEN SLOW DOWN and just about clips my leg off. I’m talking, he was close enough that I slammed my hand down on the hood. Luckily, I had a bum crossing behind me who yelled out “He almost hit you!” like five seconds after it happened. Yeah, thanks man, I still don’t have any change. 

But the guy did not even slow down nor did he acknowledge in any way his douchey-ness. It’d have been one thing if he had yelled out “Sorry!” as he was driving off and, I don’t know, thrown me some money (if the bum didn’t get there first). So, I’m shaken. I live such a sheltered, non-dangerous life that my brain interpreted this as a near-death experience when if I had actually gotten run over instead of just almost the worst that would have happened would be me getting just slightly more pissed off. 

But oh oh, boys and girls, the commute did not end there. I typically get into five near-wrecks on my short trek down Lamar when coming home from work. I’m not going to lie, they are occasionally my fault (this usually coincides with a Justin Timberlake song on the radio…he tends to distract me). But 95% of the time, people are just complete dicks. You know this and I know this so I don’t really have to go into any detail (but if you’re driving a BMW, fuck you). We are living in a SOCIETY with RULES, which means red means red and stop means stop and my blinking light means that I need to get over and I know that you see me so quit pretending to talk on your phone cause you know you don’t have any real friends anyway. 

Moral of the story: don’t be a douche when you drive. And if you almost hit someone, make sure it’s not me. I don’t think I could handle another near death experience. 

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